The Cost of Redemption
by Blueelisa
Summary: Silly little story. Maybe Edward shouldn't have let go of the guilt after all... Never have I been fonder of our domestic wildlife. Rating may change later.
1. The Unthinkable happens,Emmett is right?

**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing, but I'd sure love to.**

After a hundred years of solitude, I began to question the constant guilt that was burden.

That's about when this whole mess started, and when my story starts.

"Hey, Eddie!" Emmett shouted. "Take a look and appreciate the genius!"

Emmett was taking down a bear with much self-directed appreciative thoughts. With one last swig, the bear was projected into the air and landed on the floor with a loud thump. I was bored, and had other things on my mind-like wallowing in self-pity.

"YEY!" cried Emmett, pumping both fists into the air. I heard his approaching footsteps, and the resultant scrambling of the smallest creatures. Sensible things they were—to hide in the presence of the greatest of predators. Though neither of us would consider ants a viable option for dinner-time.

"C'mon, bro, lighten up!" Emmett said as he tried to take my neck into a chokehold.

I didn't respond, but leaned forward so that his arm missed its aim by millimeters. It was in those moments of silence, without the constant prattle of several minds into my own, that my own thoughts caught up with me. Today, I was fixated on my hands—those of a killer's.

Emmett came to stand in front of me, as I could feel his thoughts darkening in intensity. That—was unusual for Emmett, and I paid close attention to him.

Then I heard it—a pain so unlike the usual state of mind of my boisterous brother.

"Edward—seriously, at some point, you must learn to forgive yourself."

It wasn't so much the words—I'd heard this kind of advice over and over, but his thoughts were laced with pain, sorrow I was inflicting daily on my brother, on my family. It was as if for an instant, I had borrowed Jasper's ability, and could sense years of sufferings in an instant.

He took my shoulder in his grasp for emphasis, and then I knew—I knew—what did I know?

It was an overture in my mind, the great beginning of things—finally, maybe?

I vaguely noticed Emmett, his back turned on me as he started to walk away. But in my mind the turmoil was reaching its climax, for years of sins, and the sufferings—all subsequent restrictions I had imposed on myself—could I hope those atoned for…?

_Could it be?_

Emmett Cullen was recovering his usual cheerfulness, when a sudden, ridiculously loud "POP!" was heard, and as he turned, in the place where his brother stood moments before was… nothing.

"What the—?"

**A/N: I know, short. But bear with me, we'll get to the animal delights. If you happened to notice a mistake, please tell me… I'm afraid English is not my first language. Also, if you shamelessly want to leave a little bit of love—go ahead!**

**See you next chapter. **


	2. Gods of Ridicule

**DISCLAIMER: It all belongs to Stephenie Meyer. **

When Edward Cullen awoke from troubled dreams, he found that his hand was hairier than it had been. If it came to semantics, he would even describe it as _furry_.

An enormous headache seemed to have taken residence in his head, which was ridiculous, because _vampires didn't get headaches. His hand couldn't be furry or even look like a paw; and moreover, Edward Cullen couldn't have woken up, because guess what? He _couldn't _sleep._

Yet, in a strange joke with played on him by greater forces, all of the above had happened, and as if he were contractually bound to the ridicule, when Edward Cullen tried to get up, if found that his height while lying on the floor had nothing to envy on his height while he stood. Also, he found that his whole body was covered in this strange orange fur, and that he was no longer a biped.

Though his mind was still clouded, Edward Cullen tried to think methodically, when he saw, in the reflective glass of a washing machine that happened to be in front of him, that a single, straight appendage, like the end of a lightning bolt, had been fixed on his derrière and was pointing towards the sky as if to remind of the fury of a past god…

Full realization of what he had become came to him then.

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><p>Isabella Swan was carrying an empty laundry basket back to her room when she heard an—inhuman –wail, coming from the laundry room. In the past month or so that she had spent back in Forks with her father, she had never heard such a sound from the capricious washing machine, though she knew it well by now. Thinking it could mean nothing but a bad omen, she abandoned the basket on the ground, and rushed downstairs to reach the laundry room. She flung the door open, only to find an animal, wildly disorientated, subject her to its intelligent gaze.<p>

She was surprised, yet the machine seemed to do its normal rumbling spinning, so she was relieved. Bella got on her knees to greet the animal:

"And who are _you_?" she asked, reaching carefully for the cat. It seemed reluctant to come near her, and his eyes, still fixed on her, seemed shy and afraid.

But then, the strangest thing happened.

In Edward's defense, it has to be said that he wasn't all himself, pun intended, on that fine morning. And that stranger's hand, reaching for him, was perceived as a threat because of its sheer size—really, it could enclose his whole head! But then, the sweetest fragrance—a promise of heaven—reached his new nostrils. Without further ado, his body went into a predatory mode and it jumped towards the outstretched hand with a single aim—to bite and draw out the sweetest of nectars.

Fortunately, Isabella saw the coiling of the cat's body, and was able to move out of the way before the cat had a chance to hurt her. The cat jumped nevertheless, and missed, as she made a dash for the door. As Bella closed it, she heard the unmistakable sound of a collision with the door—the cat had again projected itself at her pursuit.

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><p>Edward Cullen had now a scalding pain on his face to add to the pain in his mind, but he recovered minimally from both. He was quickly ashamed of himself, for he recognized that he had attacked a human. The futility of this attempt was not lost on him. When before, his enemies' chance at surviving were inexistent, his chances at overpowering the human girl were close to zero too.<p>

He began to think. First, of where he was; his surroundings were indicative enough that he could deduct he was in a human's house. Then, he searched for a way back. But there was not the smallest hint of how he got here—this room was filled with old boxes, shelves of forgotten tokens. The means to the outside world were a small window, and the door—and both were closed.

But even if he could get outside—he had no idea where he was! And this new, feeble body would not carry him through great distances. All he could hope was for Alice to somehow perceive him with her gift, and his family would rescue him. He snorted—a strange sound for a cat—because his family could not rescue him out of a cat's body.

Edward decided to check the window, in case it could show him familiar settings. It was high up on the wall, but the laundry machine was placed just so that if he managed to lean forward, he would see the outside…

He prepared to jump, and had a straying thought of the small animals he had mocked that same morning—how ironic now that all superiority was now lost for him. He got first on a cardboard box, removing a fine layer of dust that covered the grand "Xmas" sign handwritten on it. His nostrils were bothered by the swirling dust, and he jumped quickly on the washing machine. Such a leap was no small fit—he had planned to have had to jump onto several different boxes, yet he found that his body moved lithely, with a grace that he was surprised of. Edward got his front paws on the wall, and stood precariously, unbalanced on his hind legs, so that his head may reach the level of the window.

What he saw was neither a great disappointment nor a great relief. He didn't know the setting exactly, but the vehicle he saw was undoubtedly an old American model, a Chevy. There was a road in the distance—and the edge of a forest that reminded him of the Olympic forest he had once roamed. The overcast sky, in all its glory, reminded him of that past stay in the little town of Forks. A stray beam of sunlight passed through the layers of clouds and blinded him. Edward suddenly realized that he may have another problem, but as he raised his paw slightly, he realized the gods had mercy and didn't ridicule him further: his furry paw did not sparkle in the sunlight.

Checking he had seen all that there was to see, Edward dropped back on his four legs. Still unsure of his agility in this body, he then jumped in the full laundry basket on the side of the washing machine to soften his fall.

And then, the heady scent reached him again. The clothes beneath him were partly hers, that was for sure. His head was buried in the stack of dirty clothes in a millisecond, and he breathed in deeply. However, he realized what he was doing, and his head lolled back high in the air just as quickly. Damn it, he didn't need any god to ridicule him—he just proved he could do a fine job by himself!

Glad that no one could have witness his moment of humiliation, Edward thought that the fragrance that came from the pile could very well save him from himself. The small dose of her scent would desensitize him. And from this vantage point, he could see anyone that tried to get into the room, as well as appear very non-threatening: several stray boxes lay in his path to the door, and would hinder a dash towards anyone trying to come in. Edward also realized that this put him in a position of inferiority, but wasn't he already inferior? From now on, he would depend on the kindness of strangers.

And something just told him that this adolescent girl that had wanted to make his acquaintance, not thirty minutes before, was kind.

**A/N: Did anybody catch the reference, in the very first line of this chapter? It's translated from Russian. So, it kind of depends on the translation you get, but…**

**There's also another reference, this time towards the end, to a great piece of American theatre… Let's see if someone finds it!**

**As usual, I hope you enjoyed, and I'm going to keep things light and fun, and also shamelessly flirt with you in order to have feedback. **


	3. Feline Feelings

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything Twilight. **

Isabella Swan was slightly afraid of opening the door. She had waited and procrastinated, but she knew that it had to be done. Charlie would laugh in his moustache if she were to ask him for help, and _that_ was unacceptable. And so she turned the knob, a laundry basket her only defense against the furious cat. But when the door was fully opened and her eyes had scanned the room, she realized she had nothing to fear, because there, on a mound of dirty clothes, like a fallen king, stood the majestic cat…asleep. Her heart warmed as she saw that he was unconsciously rubbing his head on her shirt. In the most innocent of states, he liked her scent. She was moved.

She realized that she could not wake him, because if she did, he would be even more furious and aggressive, that was for sure. She tiptoed to the kitchen, took out the milk bottle and filled a bowl. She then proceeded to think of a makeshift cat litter. Retrieving gravel from the driveway, she filled the laundry basket with it, and got back to the small room in the house in which her new companion lay. She knew enough about cats to know that they liked the scent of bleach, and so she poured a small amount on the gravel, thinking that it would tempt him away from the clothes when he would need to express mother nature's will. Now those preparations lay on the floor of the room, like offerings.

Now, she had only to wait until he was up.

* * *

><p>It was over an hour later that the cat stirred; meanwhile, Bella had made herself comfortable by bringing a duvet and a book to help pass time. At first, she had tried to get back to her chores, but dealing with laundry was impossible if she didn't want to wake the cat up, and otherwise, she felt lonely—as she often did—when she was too far.<p>

When Edward roused from sleep, he was amazed, and astonished, and all that can describe a vampire sleeping after a hundred years of insomnia. He was more relaxed as than ever. He stretched in that lazy way, his muscles rippling, as only cats can do.

He became aware of a pressing need in his bladder. He also became aware of the human that was sitting by the closed door.

Jumping out of the basket, he realized several things at once: one, that the girl's scent was lingering in the air in such a way that she must have been there for some time, two, that it didn't bother him in the least, and three, that there were two new objects in the room, and especially one that did bother him. The girl had looked up from her book when he had jumped, and was now apprehensively looking at him. Edward directed himself towards the cat litter; however, he stood by it without getting in. Instead, he tried to tell the human with his eye to _get out_, because if you hadn't peed in a hundred years, you wouldn't want anyone to witness that either.

Come to think of it, even if he had peed in that lapse of time, he wouldn't want anyone looking at him either.

The human wouldn't budge. She was staring into his eyes, slight surprise marking her features. Edward's need was however pressing, and he knew he needed to proceed. He jumped into the litter, and resumed his staring match.

But the human seemed to understand nothing! She was still openly staring.

"Well," she said, "go ahead."

In a very human way, Edward's head lolled to the side; his eyes fled hers. Bella gave a startled laugh—she could swear he look embarrassed!

She stayed a moment longer, hesitating, but then she got up, grumbling "Alright, alright", and going out. Edward's relief was intense. He proceeded quickly. When he was finished, he jumped back to his post on the mound. Isabella re-entered the room, and saw that in her absence, he had made use of the litter.

"You're a strange cat, you know that?" she mumbled, more to herself than to Edward.

**A/N: So, about those references in last chapter. The first one was of Kafka's **_**Metamorphosis**_**, which I greatly recommend for anyone starving for food for thought. It's exceptional. **

**Also, the "kindness of strangers" is Blanche Dubois' line in **_**A Streetcar Named Desire**_**. ;)  
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**Next chapter will be here shortly, it's longer than the others though…**


	4. Identity Search

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

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><p>Isabella Swan was beginning to think she had gone slightly mad. After finding a cat in a closed off room, when she was adamant he was not there five minutes before, she realized that she thought this same cat had a strange humanness about him, that was so unlike the expected behavior of domestic wildlife. She swore he had looked embarrassed before, and now his eyes, two greenish orbs, were fixated on her in what she was sure was apprehension!<p>

"Maybe… you should eat," she said, uncertain and feeling stupid.

But the cat had nodded his head once, in a sort of kitty-acknowledgement. It leaped to the ground, and got to the bowl of milk, which he licked at, carefully at first, and then with more passion. To Bella's astonishment, the bowl was fully finished after a couple of minutes. She got up to retrieve it, and the cat had a rapid reaction of driving back.

_Too much!_ rang in Edward's mind. Her hand was once again coming towards him; Edward realized he did not want to risk it, and so he drew back.

His claws had drawn out, and he clutched onto the dirty clothes as he moved backwards. Unfortunately, the clothes were rumpled enough by his movement that what came out of the pile was… a bra. Edward hung his head in bitter shame.

* * *

><p>Two thousand, three hundred kilometers, or so, away from the confined laundry room, Emmett Cullen was sitting in a haphazard manner, his stillness a camouflage amongst exquisite statues and antique vases.<p>

If one was to look at the scene unfold, he may be able to acknowledge five other ethereally beautiful persons in the room. The tension in the room was palpable—and the stillness of the room only added to that.

"Still nothing?" asked Carlisle to his youngest daughter.

"No. I know he's still alive, but I can't see him!" Alice cried desperately.

Emmett knew how she felt. He was the only of them all present when Edward had disappeared. He had started to doubt his own abilities—even as he raked his brain for details, the smallest hit as to what happened to his brother, nothing came up. The trail left by Edward's scent just _disappeared_. Not a single indication of another presence, either. It was maddening—

"How would you know he's not dead, if you can't see him?" Rosalie cut with snide.

Alice glared at her.

"I just know it," she shot back. "I would have seen it, and if he were dead, I wouldn't _feel _him. He's there."

"I just don't understand," murmured Jasper, while rubbing Alice's shoulders in a comforting manner.

If Edward were here, Emmett thought. He would calm Esme's silent sobs, would support Alice, and soothe them of their fear even before they were complete thoughts in their mind.

If Edward were here, he would know what to do. _He_ would find whoever it was that had such powers over a person, and could make them disappear. An idea formed in Emmett's mind. His family wouldn't think of it—Carlisle considered them dear friends, and the rest only ever heard of them through Carlisle's respectful descriptions. To be truthful, Emmett himself wouldn't have questioned Carlisle's judgment. Yet, Emmett knew Edward, _Edward would have thought of it_. The only people in the world powerful enough to make a vampire disappear without a trace—who else than the Volturi?

Emmett's head snapped up. The fact that he had been in a catatonic state assured him now the instant attention of every vampire in the room. Emmett spoke up:

"Listen, I think… I think we may need to go to Italy."

* * *

><p>On Sunday morning, Bella woke up with a new determination: she would help the cat back to its rightful owner. It gave her purpose on this dreary weekend of dreadful weather. Her father had gone fishing, <em>again<em>, but his presence wouldn't have changed much to the solitude she felt. Since she had moved to Forks in the middle of the school year, she hadn't really made friends. Mike was friendly, but too insistent, Jessica would bitch behind her back only to come back with a huge smile. Lauren was another story—_pure, undiluted harpy_.But Bella had met Angela, who was nice, friendly though she was shy.

But really, without Renee's constant pestering, Bella felt alone.

_Okay, I must stop being so depressed_, she thought._ Let's have some Coke. Coke helps make the world go right_.

With her glass in hand, she joined the cat, which refused to move from the laundry room. She thought it was because it comforted him to be in familiar surroundings. Little did she know, her furry companion refused to leave the room because he secretly hoped to go back to the small Illinois forest, the same way he had involuntarily left it. And so he stubbornly stayed on the pile of dirty clothes.

"Hey, cat," she said, "Smile!"

She snapped a picture before he could register what she was doing. She was out of the room in a flash.

In her own room, her decrepit computer turned on to a new Word Document, she began composing a flyer. _CAT FOUND_, it said in bold capital letters. The picture followed, and the description was easy enough, _orange fur, green eyes …_ And then she was faced with a problem. She didn't know whether it was male or female. Meanwhile, Edward had decided to inspect on his strange human's actions. He was in the doorway when she suddenly stood up from her chair. When she noticed him, she beckoned him in with her hand. Perhaps unconsciously, her movement had been more that addressed to a human than the ridiculous crooning or the strange sounds people used to intrigue animals. It was what decided him to take a bold step inside.

"I'm Bella," she said. "I thought it polite to tell you, since I'm going to have to become intimately acquainted with you."

Had Edward been in his right state of mind, he may have understood her meaning. But as he wasn't, Bella was at leisure to take him in her arms and rub his fur. He let her, because the act was not condescending in the least, and also because it truly felt _good_. He was purring as she got him to stretch on his back. That is when he realized his precarious situation.

"Male!" Isabella exclaimed. But the anxious animal in her arms did not take too kindly to the sudden outburst—and he scurried off, his paw digging into her skin involuntarily. "Ouch!"

* * *

><p>Once the flyer was completed, Isabella Swan drove to the station, where she knew her father's colleague would happy help her. Soon, a few copies of the document were spread over the town; the dinner, the station, and the supermarket had been their first destinations, since they were the most visited places in Forks.<p>

But Isabella had done her fair share of asking—and nobody had reported a missing cat. Nobody seemed to recognize it, even. Plenty of them, especially the older women, had aggressively wanted to know if he were to be 'adopted' by a family. Jessica's mother had been particularly vicious—her passive-aggression had fed up the teenager. Seeing the fake smile, covered in cracked, dark red lipstick that had obviously been applied in order to make Mrs. Stanley's lips much fuller than they really were, just repulsed Bella. Isabella was starting to realize there was something strangely attractive in the cat. She was herself strangely attached to it.

* * *

><p>On the way back home, Bella realized the two cars following hers were none other than her father's patrolling car and his best friend's. Thus, when she pulled into the driveway, her father, Billy and his son Jacob were not too far behind.<p>

Bella waited for her dad's car to pull up, and when he got out of it, she went to his side to explain the situation. Charlie, a man of few words, seemed more jovial than his usual self, and hazarded a comment, answering that having some company, even the animal type of company, was good for Bella. He'd been worried about her, when his extended fishing expeditions left her alone for days. Plus, he knew his daughter well enough to acknowledge the fact that he wouldn't have to worry about anything concerning the cat's welfare—Bella would take care of everything.

That night, Billy and Jacob stayed for dinner. Bella usually enjoyed these evenings. She would cook, but not have to worry about dishes. Her monotonous discussions with her father disappeared for a night to leave place to easy, pleasant banter between the four of them. This night, however, brought a small surprise for many of the participants—and the cause was, of course, the fifth participant.

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><p>Edward Cullen had reached the conclusion that the laundry room was boring. Since Bella had left, he had explored the house as well as his new, interesting body. In fact, he had practiced jumps over the banisters, on the stairs and on the shelves so much that his whole body ached for sleep. But soon, the sound of keys and the opening of the door jostled him awake.<p>

Before his eyes, Bella and three stranger men came inside.

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><p><strong>That'll be all for now. Thanks for still being with me!<strong>


	5. Knocking on Heaven's Door

Emmett Cullen had not often been the driving force behind his family's decisions. When the decision to move was made, it was met with a complacent approval on his part. His designated role had never been that of the decision maker.

"The only people powerful enough to threaten a vampire are other vampires. I can only think of a group of them having the motivation and the means to make one disappear—and leave no trace behind", Emmett stated. "We have to act quickly—who knows what intention they have!"

"And if it's not them? Are we going to just barge in, accuse the most powerful vampires in existence of having captured our brother?" Rosalie replied. "Even if it is them, they could just choose to kill us off, and nothing would come out of this!"

Uncharacteristically, Emmett answered to his mate's aggressive proclamation.

"I don't see anyone coming up with anything else," he said, looking straight into Rosalie's eyes. The determination she saw there seemed to bring a change in her. Unconsciously, this had been the starting point of a change of dynamics in their relationship. "This is, for now, our only option."

With this, the Cullens started to consider their plan; a scheme was made, tickets were booked.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, in Washington State, something strange was happening.<p>

Edward Cullen had recognized that his instincts were taking over his mind. The problem was, he did not know if it were his vampire ones, or the cat's. But every fiber in his being wanted to separate the girl from the huge boy-man who was awkwardly following her into the house. The other two were subjected to a quick survey, and quickly dismissed as harmless.

"Dad, this is the cat I told you about. I don't think he has an owner, because nobody could recognize him. He doesn't have tattoos, and he not castrated either."

If Edward's brain had followed this conversation, he would have once again felt mortified. As it was, his only focus was on devising a plan of action. Violence was ruled out, for obvious reasons of height, and strength and whatever else. Thus, a plot was to be made.

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><p>The night at the Swan's household went slowly. For Edward, it was pure torture. Although Bella, his human, did not speak much, the teenage boy had been trying to speak with her the entire time. It would have been hilarious to see him try, if it weren't so aggravating. The boy was like a puppy, constantly grabbing for her attention, addressing her and calling attention to her; Edward could guess at his strategy. He wanted to make her feel important, by talking about her, asking her to speak of herself. To most humans, this would have been the most delicious topic, but Edward knew that it wasn't to Bella. He kept coming back with a new question, disconcerting compliment, or a simple remark, but it was all in vain. Bella would answer with the gentlest rebuttal. The persistence he showed caused the conversation between the two fathers to slow. They were progressively paying more attention to their offspring, and Charlie may or may not have laughed once or twice in his mustache. Bella was a bit ashamed, more for Jacob than for herself. Still, she didn't appreciate being forced to center stage, and she appreciated even less being ridiculed.<p>

"I'm going to check on dinner," she said brusquely, dashing to the kitchen. Jacob made a move as if to follow, but Edward was on Bella trail and hissed as he saw Jacob's movement. It may have as well have been pure luck, but Jacob was astonished by the cat's aggressiveness; animals usually loved him.

Entering the kitchen, Edward saw his human busy putting the main dish in a new container. He stood guard at the entrance, half expecting to see the boy come up with a smile and an offer to help. After all, a threat coming from a cat wasn't much of a threat. Hearing a sigh, he twisted his torso. His human was finished with her chore, and now, leaning against the counters, was looking towards the heavens as if it held an answer not attainable by humans. Her frown was so profound it made Edward's heart ache. It was strange, this new sensation. He wondered if any cat could feel so much for their master. It was as if Edward's heart was a dead weight. It fell into his guts while expanding into between his lungs. Every heartbeat was felt like never before—not even when this new life, this new body was offered to him. He felt as if he could measure the blood that went through, then follow it in a golden trait when it left this new main organ. This new blood traced him from the inside, changed him. Time stood still. He didn't know into what he changed but it was a change as permanent and absolute as it would have been had he stayed in his vampire body.

He felt the need to go to her, touch her face and reassure her with his warmth. It was not that words lacked to describe what he would do in order to console the human; rather, it was that he didn't know what he would do, but he would do those things. Maybe it would be all the small things in life that make people happy—those small gestures that quietly said 'I love you', until it became a sure fact, immovable by time and so closely guarded in one's heart that it may have shined for everyone to see—but it would still be a secret. Maybe it would be the grand gestures that some people need to reassure themselves they love and are loved. But Isabella wouldn't need that. She would need the quiet moments, the private affection.

When she breathed deeply in, so did he. Life came back to him. Time started to tick again, not with the dictation of his heartbeats, but with the mechanical hands of a clock above the stove.

Then she grimaced. Edward idly wondered if she could smell the wet-dog like odor that perpetrated the air. He went to her then. He placed his paw on her knee and garnered her attention. His gaze was still on the gaze. He knew this moment would somehow be important. When he lifted his eyes to hers, his expressed feelings unspoken. There was a resolute air to them, and they warmed her heart from the inside out, like a balm for her ache. She slid down and took the cat into her embrace, her arms encircling him. He was thin enough that even as she hugged him, her hands could also touch her own torso. It was somehow reassuring.

As she came back with the plated fish, Edward was to her right. At any given moment, he would accelerate or decelerate in order to always be touching her right leg. He couldn't be sure, but he felt like she was taking smaller steps just so he could follow. He was pleased.

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><p>In a far colder place, Emmett stood before a lonely house in the Alaska wilderness. The house may have looked simple and be overlooked as the frail house of one of the pig brothers—waiting to be blown away by the big bad wolf. But the truth was elsewhere. It was a fortress, and inhabited by more dangerous creatures than a lonely wolf in a children's story.<p>

Silhouettes began to emerge from its entrance, and Emmett saw the friendly and opened faces of the Denalis line up one by one. A lesser vision may have not detected the surprise there, but he could.

'I need your help,' was all he needed to say before he was invited inside and given attention to explain his predicament.

Emmett had devised a plan. It was well constructed, but at the same time, if something somehow went wrong, it could have drastic consequences. Angering the wrong people, for instance. It wasn't something he wanted to happen. But it might be inevitable at some point. Leaving out that train of thought, he chose to focus on one of the many that were going on in his mind. The powers of his brain was something Emmett knew—but it had never focused on so crucial matters as it did now.

'Edward's gone. He disappeared,' he began. 'I was the only witness. Not a strange scent was picked up, and his just disappeared.'

There was a silence as everyone processed. But soon, Tania's voice was heard.

'Could he have been forced into some kind of vehicle?'

'No,' Emmett answered. 'It was a split second lost on my attention. His scent did not disappear like it would if that had been the case. It was completely gone.'

At that, the Denalis nodded. No human means of transportation was completely hermetical. At least, not the ones they used on earth. It meant a scent, even at a fraction of its most potent presence, could be traced if one got into a car, plane, helicopter… Humans were truly helpless before vampire.

'No human could possibly have done this,' Emmett declared.

Eleazar fixed his gaze on Emmett. 'Then you are thinking… your attacker wasn't human?'

'Exactly,' Emmett stated.

'This could get very dangerous. I don't doubt you, Emmett, but this is very grave. The Volturi need to hear of this. If one can attack us in such a way, only them stand between us and this danger.'

Emmett's expression changed. Somehow, if Eleazar had never been very impressed by his friend's stature, he sensed a change in him—something not so subtle—like charisma. The room stood waiting.

'Eleazar, it doesn't surprise me that you would think this way. The Volturi have proven to be very loyal to you,' Emmett continued. 'But, if you consider the facts… who else than the Volturi? Who would have the power, or the desire, to ensnare Edward? You were with Aro for the longest time. You know how driven he is, and how much he will deploy to get what he desires.'

Eleazar chose his words carefully.

'It's a very dangerous supposition you are making here, Emmett,' he said gravely. Eleazar considered the man before him, who he had always considered his nephew.

'This is why I consult you. What brings me here is love for my brother. And the love I know you have for him, and the rest of our family, will lead you to consider my words. You know them the best. If we're not careful enough, we could lose him, or all of us could be lost.'

With that, Carmen touched her mate's arm, and smiled while saying:

'Of course we'll be with you. We're family. We'll do anything you ask of us.'

_This battle is won_, Emmett won. He was happy with the outcome, and thanked his lucky stars for their acceptance. Sooner or later, embarrassing questions would come up—those to which he had no answer. The most pressing one to Emmett, was one he had shared with his family in the morning. _Why Edward?_ Yes, his power was interesting. Though Aro and Edward had never met, they knew of each other, and it would have been only a matter of time before Aro expressed an interest and follow with a proposal to join the guards. But there was Alice. Much, much more powerful. A power that came with uncertainty, but so immense that it could only be the most attractive to Aro. Of course, Emmett had thought of answers to this question. _Edward,_ because he wasn't mated. Nobody would look for him the way a mate would, be tortured until they were re-united. However, Emmett wouldn't insult his friends' intelligence by giving this response. Aro may not know for himself the ability of the Cullen and Denalis to stand as families, sharing unbreakable love, but he suspected it. He had, after all, lost Eleazar to it. Edward, just for that reason, wasn't the best pick. There were others, within this world. Talented vampires that stood alone. Nobody would miss them if they were to disappear. Emmett frankly believed there was no reason to attack Edward first and foremost.

But those were thoughts that didn't occur to the Denalis, or if they did, they kept it to themselves. Emmett was glad.

**Merry Christmas, and happy new year! No excuses for not writing in so long. Encouragement is always welcome!**


End file.
